


8. Dinner and More

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [8]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>warning for verbal humiliation and cum eating</p>
    </blockquote>





	8. Dinner and More

**Author's Note:**

> warning for verbal humiliation and cum eating

The jobs have been coming fast and furious of late and with another two lined up back to back, Antony had dispensed with his usual waiting period and given Stephen a ring, inviting him out to dinner. It's a far more formal occasion than the first time they'd met, Antony going as far as to don a dark blue suit with a lighter blue shirt, the collar left open, and his usual boots traded for a pair of polished black wingtips. He's made a reservation at the Mansion's steakhouse, promising Stephen an entire frigging cow if he wants it, and now he's standing just outside the main entrance, rocking on his heels as he waits. And wondering why the hell _this_ one seems to interest him so much. It's not just his looks. God knows there's enough pretty boys around here, a number of whom he's already had six ways to Sunday. And it's not just the way he submitted. Or at least Antony doesn't think so, although fuck... _that_ was brilliant too.

Stephen's showered, shaved, splashed himself with cologne, picked out some grey dress pants and a white shirt because he's got a _date_! There's no other word for it in Stephen's mind, a hot guy has asked him out for dinner, and Stephen's sure that if he plays his cards right there'll be some sex for afters. 

So, as the car pulls up outside the restaurant, Stephen is immensely pleased to see Antony waiting, looking rather sharp in a nice blue suit. He rolls out of the car, a huge grin on his face. 

"Well look at you! Looking mighty fine there," he exclaims, beaming at the other man and offering his hand. 

"Thanks," Antony says, smiling and shaking Stephen's hand, the other man pulled in close for a quick hug. "You're looking awfully good yourself. Have you been to the Mansion before?"

When he's pulled in for that hug Stephen notices that Antony has also used cologne, and he smells _good_. Really good. "Noooo," he shakes his head, "I haven't been able to come back since we hooked up, and I'm beginning to think I could check something new out every damned week and still be going six months from now." Stephen grins. "But man, steak? Way to my heart." 

Antony grins back. "Glad to hear it. The Mansions are just posh-er versions of the Clubs," he explains, nodding at security as the man opens the door for them. "Same shit still goes on, but everyone gets a little more dressed up, the general noise level is a little quieter." He nudges his shoulder against Stephen's as they walk across the hall to the steakhouse. "There's also a fully-equipped stable on the grounds - you know, for pony play, if you're into that sort of thing."

Stephen pulls a face. "Um, no!" he shakes his head. "Not my thing at all, now...gimme a prison cell, something with a military feel? Hell to the yes!"

He's all wide eyes again, not at the pretty people, but at the surroundings. "Man, can I just, you know? Move in?" 

Antony laughs. "It's tempting, isn't it?" He smiles at the hostess.

"Good evening, Mr. Starr. It's a pleasure to see you," Claire says, trying not to stare at the man with him. She has her PVR set to tape Arrow every week and watches it as soon as she gets home from work.

"Likewise," Antony says, the quick flash of recognition on their hostess's face not escaping him for one second. "How have you been?"

"Very good, thank you, and you?" Claire responds, picking up two menus. "If you'll follow me." Leading the way through the restaurant to a quiet table in front of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the grounds.

"Busy but good," Antony says, taking the far seat and flashing her another wide easy smile.

"That's wonderful. I'm glad to hear it," Claire says, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth. Sure she's used to all sorts of celebrities coming into the restaurant, into Citadel, _all_ the time, but Stephen's one of the first who's played such a big part in her own sexual fantasies. And damn it. Unless he's here for a business meeting with Mr. Starr, it looks like he doesn't swing her way. Of course, Mr. Starr does, so maybe Stephen does too. Shit. She realizes she's daydreaming and flashes a slightly sheepish smile at them. "I'm so sorry. Um. Jeremy will be serving you this evening and he'll be with you in a moment."

Antony watches her go then grins across the table at Stephen. "You made quite the impression."

Stephen watches the pretty hostess retreat. "Yeah, I get that," he admits, his smile a little less bright and a little more self conscious. "It gets a bit embarrassing to have to put them off without making them feel shitty about it and making myself look like an asshole." He fiddles with the edge of the menu as it lays on the table. "My PR people laid the law down, no coming out, no kinky shit. I've worked hard to be where I am, I have to tow the party line," he huffs out a breath. "Though having looked at the fucking members list again, that seems deeply hypocritical." 

"It's like a who's who of Hollywood, isn't it?" Antony says, feeling for Stephen. Living a lie, even when it's regarding a part of your life that people shouldn't have a right to, sucks. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to deal with paparazzi and tabloids and all of that.

"Yep," Stephen blows out a breath, and then grins. "Whatever, it got me here right?" he leans in, stage whisper. "So...you must've banged some famous people right? Good looker like you!"

Antony laughs. "Yeah, I would say I've made my rounds," he admits. "But I'm _not_ naming names." He smiles at Stephen, getting lost for a moment in those gorgeous blue eyes. "Although if you ask me outright, I'll give you a yay or nay."

Stephen taps his chin in pretend thought. "Thing is, I was so fixated on who was there I never bothered to check their orientation or their swing, so..." he shrugs "I'd be making wild guesses...could go on all night..." he tails off, before crossing both arms on the table and leaning right in. "C'mon, just one name..." he entices. 

"One and only one," Antony says, quickly racking his brain for someone who won't mind having their name thrown around. "You know Joe Manganiello? From True Blood?"

"Nooooo!" Stephen goes wide eyed. "Really? Man he is hot!" He flops back in his seat, shaking his head in disbelief. "I feel kind of flattered you think I'm in the same league." He rubs his chin, "Maybe I should go back through the members thing and make a wish list of hot men and see if I can tick 'em off, what d'you think?" He winks, his expression mischievous. 

Antony laughs. "You could, but just remember, I found you first," he teases back. "And I'm kind of cheating naming Joe. He works for Citadel on a contract basis. Used to be a full-time employee. We've known each other for years."

"Wait?! He works here?" Stephen's back to that wide eyed thing again. "Man this place really is insane." Then the first thing Antony said filters through. _'I found you first'_ "Sooo...are we ordering drinks?" he asks brightly. 

"Of course." Antony spies Jeremy and gives him a quick wave.

"Sorry, sir," Jeremy says, coming right over. Young and small-boned with dark hair pulled back from his face, he stops in front of their table, clasping his hands behind his back. "We've got a huge party over in the private room and the extra staff hasn't arrived yet. They should be here soon though. May I get you something to drink?"

"I'll have a scotch, whatever's open tonight, you know what I like," Antony says, giving Jeremy a smile meant to put him at ease. "Stephen?"

"The same, and a glass of sparkling water, ice no slice, thank you," Stephen smiles at the server and then turns it on Antony. He waits until 'Jeremy' withdraws. 

"I found you first," he quotes, eyes dancing in teasing. "Am I supposed to read something in that?" 

"Maybe," Antony allows, watching Stephen closely. "On one hand, I'd hate to pin you down when you've just found this place, and you seem to be enjoying your freedom, but I also wouldn't want to come back from a job and find someone's scooped you up if you were looking for more and I hadn't expressed my interest."

"Oh!" Stephen blinks, and drops back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his mouth. He had not expected _that_. He takes a breath. "Okay... flattered, hugely flattered," he offers, and he can't help that small thrill deep in his belly, because, yeah they had hit it off, and Antony had proved to be a fucking great top...and then there's that dick... "There's middle ground there we could talk about," he says quietly, clearly more serious than before. 

"What kind of middle ground?" Antony asks, wondering if he's _really_ going to be able to keep his hands off Stephen for an entire meal.

"As in...I get to sample the menu here, but I make you an offer of not committing anything to anyone else while we decide what if anything is going on between us?" Stephen's a little bowled over by the turn of conversation. "Or something like that." He grins. 

"I think that sounds great," Antony says, nodding his thanks to Jeremy as he delivers their drinks. "We need a few more minutes with the menu," he tells him, turning his attention back to Stephen. "Which means you should probably tell me more about yourself. Tell me something I can't read on IMDB or in your official bio."

"Where do I start?" Stephen picks up his water first. "Might just be easier for you to ask me shit..." He picks up the menu and opens it, but doesn't drop his gaze to read it. "Totally freaked over here by the way...I wasn't expecting that."

"I wasn't either," Antony admits, sipping at his scotch. "I was thinking we'd have dinner, get a room, have a repeat of the other night with a few variations... but I meant what I said and you gave me the opening..." he shrugs.

Nodding Stephen drains half his water before sliding his glass on the table. "Thank you, I work best with things up front and out in the open, hence me always asking questions," he smiles. "And if you think we can repeat the other night after I've devoured half a cow? I'm afraid I'll disappoint." He waves his hand at the menu. "What do you suggest?"

"The smoked salmon or seared tuna are good for starters, and I always have the porterhouse," Antony says, amused. Maybe repeat was the wrong word. "The New York strip's good too though. Anything they do here is."

"I'll pass on a starter..." Stephen dips his head to read the menu now, "Hmm, I think I'll go porterhouse too, and leave room for dessert." He slaps the menu shut and drops it on the table. "That's something you should know...desserts, candy, chocolate...I'm an animal...love my sugar binges," he nods. "My current craving is anything salted caramel...oh my god!"

"I'll do the same then and we'll see if we can get the kitchen to make something up for you," Antony says, waving Jeremy over. "How do you like your steak?"

"On the rarer end of medium rare." Stephen's attention is back on his scotch now. "Salted caramel chocolate brownies, with vanilla bean ice cream," he pronounces over the top of the glass. " _That_ is what I would like."

"What do you think, Jeremy?" Antony asks, grinning up at their server. "Can the kitchen manage two porterhouse steaks with all the fixings and salted caramel brownies with vanilla ice cream for dessert?"

With that smile turned on him, Jeremy blushes right down to his toes. "Yes, sir, I expect they can. Let me check, sir. Anything else?"

"No, that's it for now," Antony says, taking pity on the boy.

Stephen watches the boy with quiet amusement, the blush is pretty. "Thanks," he winks at Jeremy before he retreats. "So, what do you want to know about lil ole me?" he drawls. 

"When did you first figure out you were gay?"

"Oh, that, um...I kinda liked both until my late teens, but I don't know if I was trying to conform. I've been cock only since I was 20." Stephen smiles into his glass. "I like women, just not in my bed, thank you."

Antony smiles at that. "And what about kinky? When and how did you figure that out?"

"Hmm, that's harder to put a finger on. I guess like many of us it started with rough sex, then I hooked up with a guy who took me to my first fetish party, I think I was about 23...it all kinda rolled from there. Had my first contract when I was 25, a three month thing and had it extended. I know what I like kink-wise, not to say I don't try new things, but I don't jump from one new kink to another so much." He looks over the table at Antony. "And you, what about you?"

"Well, I'm bi. I can't remember if I mentioned that or not. And I figured out both the same summer, with the same person," Antony says, sitting back a little as he remembers, his real life, personal life, not something he talks about all that much. "I was really into girls when I was fourteen and then my best friend admitted he was gay and had a huge crush on me. I didn't see any problem with it and told him he could go ahead and suck my cock, and I actually liked that better since he could take the whole thing." He laughs, grinning at Stephen and shaking his head. "That was right before school ended and then we spent all summer experimenting. He just kept coming up with all these really crazy ideas and I was game so the next thing I knew we were into some really kinky stuff and I just never looked back."

"Fourteen huh? Wow." Stephen puts his glass down and shuffles his seat a little closer, elbow on the table so he can lean in better. "I had a bit of angst about it for about 12 months I think, the bi/gay issue, in the end I decided to just stick with guys for a while, and the while just...didn't stop." 

Antony nods. "I lean pretty strongly towards men," he says, "but whenever I think I'm going to go that way completely, there'll be some gorgeous woman in the bar or on one of my jobs and I can't resist."

"And why should you?" Stephen nods. "Oh and as to sex? I'm not a dedicated bottom, I like to play turn about, but if I'm in my submissive head space? Then I will only ever bottom, had a guy try to get me to top him as part of a scene once....really fucking messed with my head."

"I can imagine," Antony says, a little hesitant when he makes his next confession. "I don't bottom. I wouldn't say I won't ever, or that I haven't, but I can count the number of times on one hand."

"I kinda assumed that to be honest," Stephen shrugs lightly. "Look, I wasn't putting that out there on the off chance, I pick up a certain guy to have sex with, to fuck and be fucked, I pick a different kind of guy to top me...and that hardly ever intersects." 

"No, I know, I just figured since we were being honest and laying it all out there," Antony says, looking up as Jeremy comes back. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to let you know, sir, that the kitchen said they could easily do the salted caramel brownies and they have freshly made vanilla ice cream too."

"Jeremy, you are my new favorite person, thank you!" Stephen beams at him and turns that bright smile on Antony. "Heaven, that's what they should call this damned place."

Antony grins. "Yes, they should. Thank you, Jeremy, and thank the kitchen for the us," he says, before leaning in closer again. "So, you said I wasn't likely to get a repeat of the other night with half a cow in you. Not even the middle of the night part?"

Snorting, Stephen leans in himself, so there's really not much distance between them at all. "You think I came out to dinner with you just for the steak? If I thought sex wasn't a given I'd have stayed home and washed my cat," he mock whispers. 

Laughing, Antony reaches out, hand going to the back of Stephen's neck as he pushes up from his chair and in, kissing him on the mouth.

 _Oh yes! Thank you Kink Gods!_ Stephen leans in, lips parting, kissing back with equal heat and lust. He never gives less than he gets unless he's been put down. 

Licking into Stephen's mouth, Antony groans softly, his cock filling fast, but finally, reluctantly, he draws back. They're not in the right part of the restaurant for this. "Personally, I'm looking forward to second dessert," he murmurs, smiling at Stephen.

"Greedy fuck!" Stephen accuses, dropping back in his seat enough that he can readjust himself. "Though for fuck's sake, don't go demanding a fucking blow job until later in the night? Otherwise we'll both be trying out a new and not pleasant kink."

Antony laughs. "Oh, god, no, not going there," he says, shaking his head and playacting a shudder. "Hey, here's our steaks," nodding over Stephen's shoulder at Jeremy carrying a large tray towards them. "Did you know they have rooms in all the restaurants where you can get as naked and kinky as you want?"

"They do?" Stephen laughs. "Now for once, not surprised." He glances over his shoulder at the incoming food. "Was that a suggestion oh Lord and Master?" He turns bright eyes on Antony. 

"For another night, definitely," Antony says, smiling at Jeremy as he sets their plates down. "Have you ever been hand-fed?"

"Once or twice, I enjoyed it." Stephen eyes his plate with undisguised appreciation. "This looks perfect." He glances up from his food. "Something you like? I had you down as a rough and tumble Dominant, not someone who did the softer stuff." 

"It's not a huge kink of mine, but it's something I enjoy on occasion." Antony cuts into his steak. "Actually, there's a lot of stuff I enjoy on occasion, with the right person."

"Such as?" Stephen pauses to smear some mustard on the side of his plate, glancing up to watch as Antony slides a mouthful of meat into his mouth. As someone who loves his food he enjoys watching other people do the same. 

"Hand-feeding, as mentioned, some medical play, wax, hot oils, having someone play footstool," Antony pauses, grinning, to take another bite of his steak. "I don't do pony play but I've been known to put up with a kitty or puppy for a day."

"Now that," Stephen points with a steak loaded fork, "I've not tried," he admits. "I do have stuff I like 'on occasion', such as being objectified, though I need the right head space for that one, I'm partial to some intimate personal service if the connection is there." He pops the food in his mouth, having talked enough. 

"And what turns you off?" Antony asks. So far it seems like most of their kinks line up pretty nicely.

"The usual stuff. Though piss is not something I'm averse to. Cross dressing or any kind of feminisation, forced or otherwise. Not so keen on sensory deprivation, or at least the hearing part of that. I don't mind blood as a by product of play, in fact that's hot, but not as the central point of a scene. Any kind of age play or Daddy kink." Stephen pauses to cut some more meat. "And you, what do I need to avoid?"

"You've covered a lot of the things I'm not into," Antony says, thinking it through while he cuts into his baked potato. "Although I enjoy blood more than you do, but it's not a major kink for me. My biggest turn-offs are more attitudes or traits. I don't like it when someone's manipulative or when they really want to be seriously hurt - you know what I mean. Even in here there's a few crazies - smart enough to pass the psych exams but more than a little unhinged and I give them a really wide berth."

"Yeah I hear you, I've come across my own share of crazies in the non celeb scene," Stephen nods. "And I hope you'll find me a pretty open book, I don't hide shit, you want to know stuff, ask, I'll answer. I like being up front, I like knowing where I stand. I don't do all that BS." He pauses to spears an onion ring and backs it up with a chunk of nearly bloody meat. "So what's your cast iron kink? The one that never gets old, never lets you down for the thrill?"

"With someone who can handle it?" Antony hesitates for a moment, watching Stephen. Fuck. "Humiliation."

Stephen finishes his mouth of food and sets his silverware down, picks up his napkin and wipes his mouth before answering, he leans in and makes a deliberate effort to hold Antony's gaze. "I'm all your birthdays and Christmases rolled into one, Antony," he says softly. 

Damn. Antony nods, sliding into a slow grin. "I think you just might be," he agrees, every bit as softly, his cock so fucking hard he'd swear he could cut glass. "Does that mean yours is the same, or?"

"My go to, my always gets me off kink? Boots. Black, leather boots, preferably military, lace up, worn but not dirty. Gives me a hard on every damned time," he confesses, picking up his silverware again, because as hot as the talk is? The food's just too good. 

Antony has to bite back a laugh at that, because hell, if only Stephen knew: those kind of boots are his go-to for any job that doesn't require him in a fucking suit. "I think I might have a pair of those lying around," he says with a smile, popping a sauteed mushroom into his mouth.

"Well, next time you want me on my knees and want to call me names...wear them. I'll be putty in your hands so long as I'm allowed to get my mouth on them." Stephen's dick is all shades of uncomfortable right now. He has to reach down and tug at his pants. "Excuse me," he grins in apology at the non too subtle move. 

"No excuse needed," Antony says, eyes dancing, quite enjoying himself. "You like uniforms too?"

"Military, camo wear...yeah, military role play works for me big time," Stephen grins. "You like that?"

Antony nods, grinning back, already compiling a mental list of all the things he wants to do to Stephen. Which just on its own should shock him. "Definitely, and this place can pretty much provide you with anything you need for really detailed roleplays."

"Why do I think I'm not actually going to have a chance to play with anyone else for the foreseeable future?" He cocks a brow at Antony. "I can hear your brain working from here."

Antony chuckles. "You'll get your chance," he says. "I have a couple of jobs lined up back-to-back and both are out of the country so I won't even be around."

"Well that sucks," Stephen almost pouts. "Will you be gone long dear?" he teases. He finishes his steak, and picks up his last onion ring with his fingers. 

"No." Antony shakes his head, watching Stephen eat, eyes locked for a moment on the other man's mouth. "Two weeks, three tops, if everything goes well. I don't leave until Tuesday."

"Okay, that's not so bad," Stephen smiles, he'd started to assume Antony might've been away a lot longer. "And just to put it out there, I'm off all day on Sunday...if you wanted to scratch some itches before you left." 

"Boots and uniforms included?" Antony says, smiling back.

"If you want me wound around your little finger, rambling in third person, and willing to do just about anything you ask if me, yeah let's do it." And Stephen's back to wanting to touch himself, but its his eyes that give him away, gone stormy blue, pupils blowing wider.

 _Yes._ Antony's tempted to drag Stephen upstairs right now, or at least into the other room, but patience and anticipation... they're both good. Or so he's been told. "Great. I'll take care of the arrangements," he says, then nods at Stephen's plate. "Are you ready for that dessert now?"

/only if I can eat it naked and on my knees..../ Stephen blinks. "Um yeah, that would be good, thank you." His head is most definitely not on his food, even if it's exactly what he wanted, instead it's very much on what 'arrangements' Antony is thinking of.

A nod to Jeremy and there's a bus boy at their table within seconds, their plates cleared and their dessert delivered. The brownies are still warm, the ice cream melting slowly over the caramel and chocolate and Antony groans in appreciation as he takes his first bite. "I can see why this is a favourite," he says, a small flash of annoyance crossing his features as his phone buzzes and he pulls it out to check who's calling. "Sorry. I need to take this. Work," he explains.

Whilst the interruption isn't welcome, it does give Stephen time to pull his mind, and dick, back on the matter at hand, namely dessert, with clothes on.

Antony's had years of experience with cloaking his real work from those not in the know. So it's with the greatest of ease that he greets the call from Marcus with only a few words, the two of them transmitting everything between them through a shorthand developed long ago. "He's out of commission? For both jobs? Fine. Get the Russian," Antony says, giving Stephen a smile, his attention still mostly on the gorgeous man in front of him while his backbrain works on the other. "No. I'll take care of that myself. Tell him two and the usual. For lunch." He takes a final sip of his scotch, the empty glass set aside. "Good." He nods. "That's fine. Oh, and Marcus? I'm unreachable until Monday afternoon."

Stephen only picks at the dessert, waiting for Antony to rejoin him at demolishing the damned near perfect brownie. When the scotch glass is emptied, he silently waves Jeremy over and indicates a dual refill. This man is affecting him in ways no one has in a long time, and it's not unwelcome.

"Good." Antony nods again. "I'll see you Tuesday." He hangs up, tucking the phone back into his jacket. "Sorry about that."

"Not a problem," Stephen grins, he's used to it, his ex-Sir was forever taking calls and disappearing to deal with work. "Shall we do this the justice it deserves now?" He indicates the dessert with his spoon.

"Definitely." Antony grins back, rather relieved that Stephen doesn't bother asking any questions about the call. "So, tell me about your family. They're still in Canada?"

"Yeah, Mom and Dad, no siblings, we're good, I go home as often as I can, we hang out, sometimes we go skiing or get an RV and disappear for a few days." Stephen spoons up some ice cream and sucks it, making happy noises. "What about you? Are you close to your folks?"

"Fairly close. I go home a couple times a year. They're getting up there in age so I worry about how much longer they'll be around, and I have two sisters, four nieces," he grins. "So I try and see them too."

"Four nieces? Wow, I bet that can be fun, though I'm struggling to see the guy I've met as a doting uncle," Stephen grins as he nudges the last piece of brownie over to Antony.

"Thanks." Antony scoops up the brownie, holding it on his fork for a moment. "I don't know about doting, but they're good kids and I like picking things up for them when I'm travelling."

"I know it's work, but do you get see where much wherever you are?" Stephen wipes his mouth with his napkin and puts it aside.

"Sometimes." If they're still busy doing reconnaissance on the ground. "Sometimes it's just in and out," which makes Antony chuckle, bringing his inner 12-year-old to the surface. "But I like travelling even when I'm not working so I try and get to a couple new places each year." He smiles. "What about you? Do you like travelling?"

"Yeah, I just haven't done as much as I'd like, I have a few places on my wish list, Rome for one, and I'd love to do one of those tropical places, where you're right beside the water, small luxury cabin, no clothes and a hot boyfriend to keep me out of trouble." Stephen picks up his fresh scotch and grins over the rim.

"Rome's fantastic and you know, Citadel has some gorgeous resorts. There's one in Fiji with the rooms right over the water," Antony says, that smile from Stephen making his stomach flip in the strangest way. "Do you get regular breaks? Or do you work through whatever breaks you get?"

"Fiji, sounds heavenly," Stephen sighs. "And I get a week off every five weeks, I take the time, I just don't always do something constructive with it." He eyes Antony across the table. "I've not had a boyfriend for years, so I'll have to wait for Fiji."

"Maybe not that long," Antony says with a smile, stifling the urge to ask Stephen to go with him now, on his next break. It's only their second time together, their first real 'date' and he knows better, he really does. Has seen over and over again how quickly people hook up here and not always to everyone's best interests. He glances at the empty dessert plate between them. "Would you like some coffee? Anything else?"

There's something there, in Antony's expression, that gives Stephen a moment's pause. "You?" he murmurs. "If you'd like, just you and me, no roles, some dirty sex and laughter?"

"Yeah." Antony nods. "That sounds good." He gestures to Jeremy once more, asking for the bill and a keycard to a regular room. He doesn't take his eyes off Stephen though and when the boy disappears to fetch both he adds, "But I'm still making arrangements for tomorrow night."

"I'm counting on it," Stephen's voice is a little huskier, arousal starting to smolder low in his belly now. "Just the thought of you in boots is making me fucking hard."

"Good, because you're gonna have your mouth all over them, boy," Antony murmurs, his own cock jerking violently at the thought.

Stephen has to close his eyes for a moment, the image and the rough tone to Antony's voice has him aching. 

It's a struggle not to push right there. Have Stephen down on his knees and... Jeremy returns with the bill and the key for the room and Antony signs, adding a generous tip for the boy. "Ready?"

It's a clipped "Yeah sure," that Stephen responds with as he rises from his seat, draining the last of his scotch. He keeps his gaze down, deliberately not looking at Antony, because he's so damned close to needing to kneel.

His hand at the small of Stephen's back, Antony guides him out of the restaurant and towards the lifts, with a nod at Claire as they leave. He thinks he has a pretty good idea of what's going on in Stephen's head right now so he doesn't say anything until they're safely inside the lift, and even then, he just presses him against the back wall, letting Stephen feel how fucking aroused he already is as he kisses him, tongue delving between his lips and into his mouth.

Antony hasn't pressed his advantage, and for that Stephen is thankful, he doesn't want to submit tonight, tonight he wants to be able to explore and enjoy the other man without the restriction that a D/s dynamic would impose. So when he's kissed, when he can feel that fucking perfect dick pressed against him he returns the lust in equal measure, hands grabbing and exploring, tongue matching Antony's in hunger.

"God, you are so fucking hot," Antony murmurs, pulling Stephen's shirt from his trousers, one hand slipping under, stroking over his stomach and around to his back as he pulls him even deeper into the kiss, his mouth hot and demanding.

Stephen's own hands are busy enough, one deftly unzips Antony's fly to slide his hand in to stroke that thick cock, awkward when they're pressed so tight but Stephen's determined to claim his prize. "Want you," he growls.

Antony pulls back, reaching out to slap a palm against the stop button, the lift grinding to a halt. "Turn around," he says, pressing close again, already digging in his pocket for condom and lube.

He doesn't even question it, too intent on Antony's body, too intent on the need to satisfy the raging lust that has his skin on fire for /this/ man. So Stephen turns, one hand sliding open his belt, pop his fly to push his pants and shorts down, offering himself. "Do it," he demands.

A groan spilling from his lips at the sight, Antony drops his own trousers and shorts, rolls the condom on and slicks his fingers, rubbing two over Stephen's hole before pushing them in, stretching him a little too quickly but it can't be helped. Citadel puts up with their lifts being out of commission all the time, but only for so long.

Stephen had taken the time to prep himself before coming out...partly wishful thinking, partly from ingrained habit, born of his previous training. Now? He's fucking thankful for it, and makes a half delirious mental note to _always_ prep before seeing Antony. Not giving pause to the thought that he's assuming he will, or what it implies that he thought it so naturally. 

"C'mon Antony, c'mon I can take it, fuck me already," Stephen turns his head, growling, impatient, his face flushed.

"Just remember, you asked for it," Antony tells him, smearing the last of the lube over the condom before he lines up and pushes in, blunt head forcing its way past that first tight ring of muscle.

"Fuckingfuck!" Stephen hisses out between clenched teeth, it fucking hurts, it feels like Antony is tearing his way inside him, splitting his ass with that enormous cock. He does bear down, however, his body demanding more. "C'mon, want you in me..."

"I'm getting there," Antony assures him, pushing slowly but steadily deeper, the tight heat of Stephen's body making his head swim. Fuck.

"Hurry up!" Stephen's voice is breathy and full of laughter, "They'll be calling maintenance to fix the elevator, I don't want to get caught with your dick in my ass." He reaches behind his hand seeking out Antony's skin, his hip, some purchase to pull him in. 

A huffed laugh and Antony snaps his hips, driving home, his cock sunk deep in Stephen's ass. But he doesn't stop there. Bracing his hands against the back of the lift, he pulls out and slams back in, thrusting again and again, the muscle surrounding his cock forced to ease, to surrender.

As hard as Antony thrusts, Stephen pushes back to meet him, his breath forcibly expelled with each slam of Antony's hips. He grunts noisily, greedily, his fingers digging deep into the flesh over the other man's hip. 

"Fuck," Antony groans, fucking Stephen even harder, thrilled with the way the other man moves with him, the way he takes whatever Antony dishes out and gives it right back. "You feel so fucking good." Too good. There's no way he's going to last long. Not this time, not like this, not here. He drops a hand from the wall and wraps it around Stephen's cock, stroking with each and every thrust.

Stephen shakes his head, "No...not me....just you...cum, just fucking cum in me," he growls. "I'll get mine in the room, just fuck me..."

"Have it your way," Antony says, slapping his hand back on the wall. He manages another dozen thrusts, every one as rough and deep as the last, before he goes over, coming so hard his teeth ache with it, hot heavy spurts filling the condom between them.

Stephen matches each of Antony's movements, uses his body to work the other guy through his orgasm, and braces himself as Antony slumps a little, his head - Stephen assumes - resting against his shoulder blade. "Hey, you okay?" He reaches back again, only this time his fingers stroke the heated skin. 

"Yeah." Antony blows out a breath and straightens up. "Great." He smiles at the touch. "You?"

"Fucking perfect," Stephen grins, twisting around to try see Antony's face. "Took the edge off huh?" 

Antony laughs. "Yeah, definitely," leaning in for a kiss before easing out, the condom held in place. "You like holding off though? Even when it's casual?"

"Sometimes, when I want to get off on my partner's pleasure yeah, if I'm all about my own orgasm I miss that, I didn't want to miss it with you." Stephen shrugs as he turns and yanks up his shorts and trousers. "A quick fuck in an elevator...one to remember."

Antony smiles at that, rather touched by the first part. _I didn't want to miss it with you._ "I'll certainly remember it," he says, disposing of the condom in the bin provided and rights his own clothes, pressing the button to start the lift again when Stephen's ready. "I assume that wasn't your first time in a lift though, was it?" 

"Yeah it was actually," Stephen grins. "I've fucked in places I was likely to get caught before, out doors and shit, it's fun, adds that something extra, but that was my first fuck in a deliberately stopped lift," he admits. Pushing up from the wall he reaches out to tug on Antony's arm. "C'mere, I want to kiss you."

"You do, do you?" Antony grins, pressing in close, his gaze locked on Stephen's. God, he could get lost in the other man's eyes. He kisses him, softly, tongue flicking over his lips, then a little harder, surprised at how his arousal really hasn't abated at all.

So they might not have gotten caught in the act of fucking when the doors open, but they do get caught mid kiss, and Stephen is reluctant to let Antony pull away as the doors slide open to reveal a couple waiting for the elevator. It's apparent what they've just done, and it's also clear the other couple figure it out in moments, so Stephen grins and tugs on Antony's hand to pull him out of the car and along the corridor. 

"We're at the end of the hall," Antony says, laughing as Stephen pulls him toward their room. "On the left." His eyes on the other man's ass and the way those trousers fit him so perfectly.

"Hmmm, we should've got a room with a hot tub," Stephen throws over his shoulder, and notices in the process just what Antony is looking at. "Hey, eyes up," he teases. "You just had a piece of that!"

"Does that mean I don't get any more tonight?" Antony says, grinning back, the key card held out to Stephen.

"Well that all depends," Stephen takes the card and winks, coming to a stop at the door Antony indicated. "So long as you're clear that we're on even ground tonight, and apart from the obvious 'you-don't-take-cock'...I'm not going to be holding back," he quirks a brow in question. "I can get a little alpha with guys I like to fuck with," he lays it out. "That's not going to be an issue is it?" He has to check, it has happened twice in the past, men he's submitted to and then had a subsequent fuck date with had been wrong footed when the 'boy' had turned out to be anything but when the roles were off the table. Things had gone down hill rapidly and needless to say, he'd not seen them again afterward. Somehow though he's sure Antony won't have a problem, the other man's self assurance and dominance is innate and not likely to be threatened by a shift in Stephen's attitude. 

Antony smiles and shakes his head. "Not at all." In fact, he rather welcomes seeing the other side of Stephen.

"Thank fuck for that, not that I thought you would...but..." he pauses to push open the door and usher Antony in ahead of him, "I've been itching to get my hands on you, on my terms," he laughs and shuts the door, tossing the key card on the small side table just inside. 

"Is that right?" Antony says, slipping his suit jacket from his shoulders and laying it over the back of a chair. "On your terms?" He grins, watching Stephen, eyes dancing. "And what might those be?"

"Well," Stephen holds that amused gaze and starts to unbutton his shirt, "when I'm submissive I have to wait for direction, to do what my dominant wants, when we're like this...when I get to do things on 'my terms'...well, I get to touch, taste, bite, lick, caress wherever the fuck I want, as long as _we_ want...and I fully intend on acquainting every damned inch of that fucking hot body of yours with my tongue..."

"Sounds good to me," Antony murmurs, his cock jerking, starting to fill again before it can even soften all the way. Christ. "You want me naked?"

"Do I want you naked?" Stephen shuck his shirt off and tosses it aside, his hands on his pants fly now. "I've wanted you naked for the last hour Antony..."

Antony laughs and starts unbuttoning his shirt, clearly checking out every inch of skin as Stephen reveals it. "They must have you working out like crazy for this role," he says, setting his shirt aside and starting on his trousers.

Stephen toes off his shoes, and pushes his pants and shorts down, bending to peel his socks off as he steps out of his clothes. "Yeah, it's easier now I'm in shape, getting there was brutal, but I do an hour of weights a day, cardio every other." He straightens up, and moves to where Antony's still stripping. "You like it huh? S'one of the reasons I like you too, all that muscle, ripped as fuck...my last Sir...he was in good shape, but he had 18 years on me, he wasn't so...hot," Stephen feels a bit shit for saying it, but it's the truth, and he's nothing if not honest. 

"I only have five on you," Antony says with a smile, pulling Stephen in for a kiss even though he's still partially dressed. "Hopefully I can hold my own."

"Five huh?" Stephen murmurs into Antony's mouth, "Doesn't show...you're fucking perfect." His hand slides down Antony's belly and into the waist band of his shorts, fingers closing around the other man's dick, still sticky from their fuck in the elevator. "Jesus..." he groans when he feels that hard column of flesh kick in his palm. "Fucking...perfect."

"So are you," Antony breathes, a groan spilling from him at that touch. He returns the favour, wrapping his fingers around Stephen's cock and stroking slowly, tongue flicking out to lick across Stephen's lips.

"You just pick me up because I'm pretty?" Stephen teases, nipping back at Antony's mouth, nuzzling and licking in return. "How terribly shallow of you, Mr Starr," he purrs. 

Antony laughs. "Have to start somewhere," he murmurs, his other hand cupping Stephen's ass and pulling in tighter. "Especially in a place like this."

"And what got me a second date? My eyes or my sparkling wit?" Stephen's smiling as he slides his mouth up Antony's jaw to nip at his ear lobe. "Or my tight fuckhole?" he growls. 

Mm. Fuck. "C. All of the above," Antony says, fingers slipping between Stephen's cheeks, rubbing over said hole. 

"Good answer." Stephen huffs out a breath, a smile in his voice, but when Antony's fingers find his hole he groans and pauses, mouth pressed to lightly stubbled skin, eyes sliding shut. "We should take this to bed, where I don't have to worry about my knees giving out," he confesses. 

"Sure." Antony nods, stepping back to rid himself of his shorts, his cock complaining at the loss of the contact. "Although I kind of like the idea of making you weak in the knees," he teases, climbing onto the bed after Stephen and up the other man's body.

Stephen looks up at the man poised over him, reaches up and strokes his hand down one side of Antony's face. "Does anyone call you Tony?" he asks softly, his other hand playing along Antony's side, knuckles brushing warm skin. 

Antony shakes his head. "I usually discourage it," he says, draping himself over Stephen and kissing him softly, shifting between his thighs so their cocks are perfectly aligned.

Stephen swallows any reply when Antony kisses him, his mouth opening to accept the sweet caress. His fingers dance up and then down Antony's spine, before teasing over the hair dusted globes of his ass, that perfect tight ass. Only when the kiss breaks, and he can mouth his way toward Antony's ear does he whisper, "Usually?"

"I don't like nicknames, and I've had to fight my whole life to stop people from calling me fucking Anthony," he says, thrusting so their cocks rub against each other. "But we'll see." Antony kisses Stephen again, licking into his mouth.

Stephen lets himself enjoy the kissing, the movement of Antony's skin over his own, but soon enough the urge to assert himself becomes too much to suppress, so he wraps his arms around Antony and digs one heel into the bed, using his body weight, his strength to roll them. "You were still on top," he mumbles against Antony's mouth as they resettle. "I told you it wouldn't be like that tonight." 

"Okay," Antony murmurs back, relaxing and savouring Stephen's full weight against him. "I'm all yours. Within reason," he quickly adds with a soft laugh, but they already talked about that.

"No cock in your ass, I'm all clear," Stephen whispers as he starts to mouth his way down Antony's chin, over his throat, pausing at the pulse point to place a sucking kiss, and then continuing down, down over to his chest. He covers the warm, hair dusted skin with kisses, licks, soft nips with his teeth, all the while humming his appreciation, hands roaming along Antony's sides, as if to hold him in place. 

"Mm, fuck," Antony breathes, his cock jerking between them, a shiver running through him as Stephen's mouth moves over his skin.

"Later...I promise," Stephen huffs his reply over kiss damp skin. "When I'm done." And he continues his path down Antony's body, bypassing _that_ cock to nuzzle and taste each of Antony's legs in turn. 

"Feels good," Antony murmurs, shifting just a little, unable to help himself, his cock jerking again and again, smearing his belly with precome.

Stephen raises his head, pauses to drink in the sight of Antony's blissed out expression. "Good? Should be fucking epic," he rumbles teasingly. He cups Antony's balls and fondles them. "When we fuck, I want you facing me, I want to watch you." Each time they've fucked so far Antony has come at him from behind. Stephen wants to see the other man's face. 

"Works for me," Antony says with a smile down at Stephen. "And if once you get your mouth on my cock it might be epic," he teases, enjoying the banter, the easy back-and-forth. It's been a long while since he's had this and even longer since it was with anyone where there might be an actual future of any kind.

"Oh patience man," Stephen tuts. "I was getting to that." He dips his head again, only this time he's biting at Antony's hip. Leaving little red marks where his teeth have broken blood vessels. Antony really is in perfect physical condition, and Stephen is relishing the opportunity to enjoy and revel in it. It's been a while since anyone got him this hot. 

"You're lucky I'm not an actor too," Antony murmurs, hissing in a soft breath, the puddle of precome on his skin growing with each and every bite. "You can mark me all you want."

Another grin into warm skin and another glance up at Antony's face. "Oh, that sounded not so much a casual invitation as a oh-hell-yeah-I-like-that-do-it-some-more," he remarks softly, licking a broad stripe over some of the smaller marks. And he takes Antony at his word, shuffling down a little more, one hand splayed to push open Antony's thighs so he can take a large sucking bite high up on the inside. He worries the flesh with his teeth, fingers kneading the muscle either side. Here he can smell Antony's sex, fresh precum overlaying the muskier smell of their previous fuck, his dick twitching hard in response. 

Cursing under his breath, Antony licks his lips, his hands curling into fists against the sheets. "More," he murmurs, arching into the bite.

 _Well fuck!_ Now this is a surprise, a helluva nice one, but a surprise nonetheless. Stephen lets go and places a soft kiss over the skin which is already blossoming into a pretty purple red. "More bites? You like that Antony? Tell me..."

"Like the pain sometimes. A little," Antony clarifies. He's not a masochist by any stretch and he doesn't switch. "Helps me relax." Although relaxed is about the very last thing he is right now, judging by the state of his cock.

"I get that," Stephen murmurs as he eyes up another perfect spot. It thrills him to think this amazing man, this _Dominant_ man will be walking around possibly hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away, wearing bites put there by him for days to come. Physical and visual reminders of their time together, and Stephen wants that, he wants Antony to be thinking of him while he's gone, wants him reminded of their tryst. 

A soft nuzzle, a harsh bite, a tender kiss. Stephen picks out three more spots to enact this ritual, until he can't help himself any longer and starts to nose and lick at that beautiful, weeping dick. 

"Oh, fuck," Antony moans, feeling like a broken record, but Christ, Stephen's mouth is _that_ fucking good. And it's been a long time since he's slowed down this much with anyone. "Yeah, that's it..."

"How'd you want to get off?" Stephen lifts his head and wraps his fingers around the base of Antony's cock, giving it a solid squeeze, just once. "In my mouth, or up my ass?" 

Antony groans. What a choice. "Up your ass."

"Good choice," Stephen laughs softly and then punctuates it with a soft sucking kiss to the crown of Antony's dick, gathering all the precum there into his mouth, to let it roll over his tongue. Then he's up, reaching for the ubiquitous bottle of lube at the bedside, he pumps a handful into one palm and then reaches around to his ass. "I'm going to ride you Antony, I'm going to fuck myself on that magnificent cock of yours and you're going to watch me, aren't you?" 

"Damn right I am," Antony says, eyes locked on Stephen, hands sliding up the other man's thighs.

Using his lube messy hand Stephen strokes first Antony's dick, leaving a healthy coating behind, and then his own aching flesh before he reaches again, this time to retrieve a condom packet. He rips it open with his teeth and then offers Antony the slippery latex sheath. "I get off on seeing guys put these on themselves," he offers softly. "Watching them stroke themselves..."

"Yeah?" Antony's eyes sparkle as he rolls the condom down into place, hand moving over his cock a few times to ensure a smooth fit. "Like that?"

"Yeah," Stephen nods, eyes locked on Antony's hand for the duration of that little 'show'. Then when Antony is done, he bats away his hand, and shuffles up, pushing the other man's cock under him, He braces himself with one hand to Antony's chest, the other he reaches back, tries to guide Antony's cock to his hole. "When we're done? When you've shot your load in there, will you give it to me?" Stephen's voice is low, his request, the need that drives it almost making him feel...shame. 

"Yeah, why?" Antony asks, gaze locked on Stephen's face now, on the emotions flickering across his features.

Stephen's gaze drops to Antony's chest, and instead of replying straight off he starts to push down onto Antony's dick, the stretch and burn making his breath hitch. "So...will you...feed it to me?" Stephen...loves cum play, but in a world where sensible gay men do everything they can to avoid getting semen in their orifices Stephen revels in it: in his mouth, on his skin, over his ass... so far he's only indulged in it with his ex-Sir, but that came with the restrictions their roles imposed, hence his question, his tone, his body language in his request to Antony is submissive. 

Antony's taken aback, but only for a moment. If Stephen trusts him to do that, then why not. He knows he's clean, knows the 'safety' Citadel affords, and besides, the whole idea's smoking hot. "Yeah," he says, nodding slowly, his breath catching as Stephen moves on him, taking him deeper. "I'll do that."

Stephen pauses just for a moment, and looks up to meet Antony's gaze. "Really?" and he's not aware that he's letting his vulnerability show. 

Antony nods again. "If that's what you want," he says with a smile, sliding his hands around to cup Stephen's ass. "Why not?"

Shaking his head Stephen decides now is not the time to get into that. So he concentrates instead on sinking down, on taking all of Antony's cock into him, and when he bottoms out he stills to savour it. 

"Christ, you're beautiful," Antony murmurs, watching Stephen, hands moving with him, stilling when he stills, the tips dipping between his cheeks to touch where they're joined.

Smiling, but not replying, Stephen places both hands on Antony's chest, and starts to move, a slow tilt up and forward, and then he sinks down, repeats the movement, angling until he gets it _just_ right for them both, evidenced by the quiet hiss from himself and the widening of Antony's eyes. 

"Ah, fuck, yeah," Antony groans, fighting to keep his hips still, to let Stephen do this, let it all be him, for now. "That's it. God."

"Don't hold back," Stephen murmurs, caught up in the rock and slide of his body over Antony's, he can feel how the other man is holding back, the tension in his body that is not sexual. "Equals, remember?"

Antony nods, starting to rock up to meet every downward movement, his cock buried inside the man above him again and again, pleasure flushing over and through him. "God, you're so fucking tight," he gasps, hips moving faster, harder.

"Not me," Stephen groans out, smiling, his fingers clawing up to dig his nails in Antony's pecs. "That huge dick of yours," his own slaps against his belly with each movement, precum dribbling along the shaft. "Fuckin' insane."

Antony laughs. "Am I the biggest you've had?" he asks, mostly teasing, he could care less, his balls starting to draw up tight again, his hands digging into Stephen's ass as they meet and match each other's every movement.

"In my ass? Yeah..." Stephen reaches up to wipe the heel of his hand over his forehead to brush away the sweat that's beading there before slapping it back against Antony's chest. "Jerk me off man...I'm close...like you..."

Eyes dark with lust, Antony wraps his hand around Stephen's cock, stroking roughly, working him with his thrusts, every rock of his hips, his body tensed, poised right on the fucking edge. "You first."

Stephen's mouth falls open as he makes little stuttered panting noises, his orgasm curling tight in the pit of his belly before rushing up and exploding out of his cock in a spray of semen. He keens long and loud as the pleasure blinds him to everything else, his body contracting frantically around Antony's dick. 

Antony bites back a good boy, coming hard with his own shout, pulse after pulse of hot thick wet spurted into the latex between them. _Fuck, yes..._

The tension leaves Stephen slumped, his shoulders bowed, head hanging down his nails no longer scoring Antony's chest. "That? Was fucking perfect," he groans, pushing up to straighten his back, his weight settling on Antony's hips. 

"Yeah, it was. Brilliant," Antony agrees, stroking his hands over Stephen's thighs, his cock still throbbing lightly inside him. He smiles. "You want your treat now?"

At that Stephen's head comes up and he holds that intense gaze for a moment. "Yeah...yeah please..." his voice suddenly gone rough. It's in him to ask Antony to assert himself now, to push Stephen down and force him to drink the cum from the rubber, but all night he's been reiterating that they were equals...because he really hadn't expected Antony to agree to this. Now...now he's cursing that, and the fact he's unsure of himself. For the first time since they met. 

"Lift off then," Antony says, his cock giving one more rough throb.

Waiting until Antony has the edges Stephen lifts up and off, dropping to sit beside Antony on the bed, his eyes on Antony's dick and the semen filled latex. "Antony?"

"Yeah?" The condom secured with his fingers, Antony shifts up and onto his knees, slowly stripping it from his cock.

"Make me?..." Stephen chin drops. "Humiliate me with it...please?" For someone who is usually so certain of himself and what he wants, and how to ask for it...it's an unusual moment of hesitation and uncertainty for him. 

Fuck. For saying he _just_ came... a soft groan spills from Antony's lips. "What'd you have in mind?" he asks, though not really. "You want me to tell you what a dirty little fuck slut you are." The condom held out in front of Stephen. "How I know you want this," he growls, reaching out to grip Stephen by the nape and push his head towards it. "How I know the only thing that would make it better is if I could actually come in your ass and feed _that_ to you."

 _Slam_ Stephen is smacked hard into head space, he reels even on his knees and Antony's words are each like a twist of lust in his belly. "Yessir," he swallows and licks his lips, takes a breath and then tries to pull back as if resisting, as if he didn't want exactly what Antony outlined with everything he is. 

"Get in there, boy," Antony orders, shoving down harder, the condom brought to Stephen's face. Rubbed against his nose and mouth. "You open up and you get every last fucking drop, you hear me?"

The noises Stephen makes might be interpreted as refusal, if he hadn't been clear about the fact he wants this _so_ damned much, but it's all part of the play. "No...no..please...no," he shakes his head, the stink of sex, of Antony's cum making his head swim with lust. 

"Don't you tell me no, cunt," Antony growls, grip tightening, Stephen's face ground against his hand and the condom clenched there. "Not when I know what a slut you are for this. I bet I could dump it on the fucking floor and you'd just lick it up. Wouldn't want me to waste it, would you?" 

Despite thinking he might try and play this out a little longer Stephen finds himself opening his mouth, making soft pleading noises of want, even as he flushes with shame at the need to do something so...dirty. "Please..."

"Eat it," Antony orders, working the condom open, its contents to the top. "Get every last fucking drop, you little fuckpig."

Stephen can't look at Antony, the humiliation of what he's doing is coloring his skin, washing his throat and face with a mask of shame. Even so, he's lapping at the condom before the cooling semen spills out, desperate to not lose any of it. His fingers dig hard into his own thighs as he twists his head to capture every dribble. 

"Look at that," Antony murmurs, his voice low, deceptively soft. "Christ, you're a pretty colour. All that fucking blush. Ashamed you get off on this, that you'd be so fucking turned on if I'd dumped it on the floor you might have just come from that."

Stephen's recurring fantasy is to lick up his Dominant's cum from the floor space between two worn, black leather, military boots, all the while being verbally humiliated. And it's this he thinks of briefly before pulling his head back to what is _actually_ happening. The press of Antony's hand to the back of his neck, those fingers digging in as he guides his head, the hiss of Antony's voice, low and wicked. And the burning shame of how greedily he's sucking up the last of Antony's cum. His cock is already hard again, that's how much this pushes his buttons. _Fuck!_

"That's it, boy," Antony tells him, pushing his face into the condom, into the last of his come. "Every fucking drop."

Stephen...all but sucks that condom clean, he doesn't care that he's tasting his own ass, just that he has taken Sir's cum, that he's been made to lap it up like the worthless fucking piece of shit that he is. When he's done he's back to trying to pull away, small noises of dissent escaping his mouth. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Antony demands, but he drags Stephen up, pulling him in, tonguing into his mouth and tasting himself on the other man.

This time? Stephen's response is submissive, he participates of course, but he lets Antony lead and he lets Antony take from him what he wants, leaning in to savor the touch and taste of this wonderfully dominant man. 

Christ. When Antony finally draws back, he eases his grip on Stephen's neck, his other hand on his hip, keeping him close, gazing into his eyes. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, not really sure he ever has, and even more unsure whether he wants to think about that. "Good boy," he says instead, softly, giving Stephen one more kiss before he tosses the empty condom into the bin and pulls Stephen down with him, into his arms.

Heaven. Stephen settles against that warm, solid body, his eyes closing, his head a warm fog of subspace. Safe. He turns his head to press his lips against salty skin. He's lost in the moment, utterly blissed out, totally satisfied. It's perfect and it's rare. "Will you be my Sir?..." the words are spoken, whispered, mouthed before he can halt them, think about them...weigh the importance of them. 

To say the request catches Antony by surprise would be a drastic understatement, but he can't deny that, on some level, he's been thinking along those lines since their first time together. Still... "Are you sure that's what you want?" he asks, lifting the other man's chin with his finger, making sure he has his gaze. "You know what you're asking, Stephen?" Making sure the other man's not lost in some headspace where later he'll regret the words, the desire.

Stephen blinks, the use of his name pulling him up toward normal head space, out of the happy haze the words had come from. "I think so," he murmurs, frowning a little. "I need to talk to you out of bed about it, but we've clicked...in a way I never expected, and what we just did, how you spoke to me...it fits me," he rambles. "You fit me...this works..."

"It does for me too," Antony says softly, stunned to realize just how much he means it. "But we do have to talk about it out of bed, and not when I've just had you under." He smiles and kisses Stephen, pulling him in closer still.

"Yes Sir," Stephen nods, sliding his arm over and around Antony's chest. "Lots of talking, lots and lots of talking," he murmurs. "I know the drill...contract...stuff," he sighs and yawns widely. "Talking."

"Not right now," Antony tells him, amused, quite enjoying holding the other man in his arms even if he's not as tired himself. "Right now, you should go to sleep."

"Hmmm." Stephen nods, eyes closed, already half way there, the only other movement is from his fingers, as they brush back and forth over a patch of skin on Antony's shoulder.


End file.
